


The Fox and the Hound

by caitlinrose923



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 12:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitlinrose923/pseuds/caitlinrose923
Summary: Years ago, Killian Jones left his youthful days of illicit romance and causing trouble behind him in favor of walking dogs for a living in Storybrooke. He’s been working for the same families for years, so discovering David Nolan’s beautiful yet closed off sister behind their apartment door is a surprise. It's not long before Killian finds himself coming down with a case of puppy love, but Emma might just send him home with his tail between his legs.





	The Fox and the Hound

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> The day is finally here! This is my 2018 Captain Swan Little Bang contribution. 
> 
> **Thank yous:**  
> [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestIyari/pseuds/ForestIyari): Amy, you absolute angel. Without your incredible dedication, this story would mostly just be a pile of words, and it would probably somehow still be far past word count. I genuinely don't know how to thank you enough. 
> 
> [Ro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose): Ro, my saving grace. Despite already having enough (too much) on your plate, you took on beta-ing my story with hardly a second thought. You challenged me and made me think and, despite my subconsciously attempting to fight you on this, made me a better writer. Words will never be enough to thank you.
> 
> [Monica](http://archiveofourown.org/users/captainswanandclintasha): Monica, working with you has been an absolute delight. You were so excited about my story, and that made **ME** excited about my story. You created these incredible photo sets and you wanted nothing more than for them to be perfect. And they ARE. I hope we continue to chat after this, because getting to know you has been one of the loveliest parts of this experience.
> 
> [CSBB](http://captainswanbigbang.tumblr.com/): BB/LB crew! Thank you for creating this event, continuing to hold it, and for allowing me to be a part of it. I've learned so much, and have been constantly inspired by the creators you've allowed me to meet. Thank you!
> 
> It is with great pleasure that I present: **The Fox and the Hound**

 

_"Be wonderful! Like a dog, love with all of your heart.”_

_― Debasish Mridha_

 

Sometimes Killian Jones felt like he lived in some form of Pleasantville. Everyone knew everyone, and nothing ever changed. Storybrooke wasn’t a tourist town. You were born there and you died there, with very little exception. But Killian liked the life he lived, liked the predictability and the schedule and the monotony. He knew what to expect, and that made life easier.

At least that’s what he told himself.

He knew his clients – human and canine – and he loved them all. They exchanged small gifts at Christmas. He always asked about their families. Though he saw the dogs more often than their owners, he made sure he had a personal connection with every family before he took on a new pooch in his pack.

Killian knocked on the door of every client. Even though most of them weren’t home, he always tapped the door a few times before using his keys. He’d once walked in on the Widow Lucas when she’d stopped home for a nap one day and nearly given the poor woman a heart attack. Or so she claimed. The truth was that she’d reached under the couch for what Killian was fairly certain was a shotgun. He’d heard the metal barrel drag on the ground and the distinct  _ cha-chk _ of something being prepared to shoot-to-kill. Her eyes had been closed the entire time, and he’d barely squeaked out that he was simply here to walk Bear. She’d actually woken up then, stared him down for a moment, and then shouted for her 110 pound Great Pyrenees, who’d come running and nearly knocked Killian right off his feet.

So now, he always knocked.

He’d been about to pull out his keys to apartment 3B when suddenly the door opened and a beautiful, but unfamiliar, face greeted him. 

She wore a faded blue  _ Storybrooke Police Department _ t-shirt and basketball shorts. Her blonde hair was tangled and she had faded black rings around her eyes, as though she’d slept in her makeup. Her lips were turned downward and she hadn’t moved out of the way to let him in.

But her eyes were bright and green and alive, and Killian could  _ not _ stop staring at them.

“Oh, er, have I knocked on the wrong door? I’m looking for the Nolans.”

“That’s us.” The beautiful face was giving him a scowl. She still hadn’t moved, her entire body blocking him from stepping inside. “Who’s asking?”

“Um… I’m Killian, the dog walker? Is… is David here? I’m just looking to walk Wilby?” 

“’Kay. I dunno where the leash is or anything. I assume you do.”

“Yeah, I’m here three times a week.”

“’Kay,” she said again. She looked him over from top to bottom – not in an appreciative way, but as though she were examining him for any danger he might present. Apparently finding none, she added, “come on in.” She promptly disappeared down the hall. Killian wasn’t sure if it was a blind show of trust, or if she didn’t care if he really was the dog walker or a horribly lazy burglar.

He grabbed the leash from its home on the coat hooks attached to the wall, whistled for Wilby, and went on his way.

He was all the way back out on the street, leash in hand, when he realized something.

“You know, I didn’t catch your name,” he mentioned as he unclipped Wilby’s harness after their walk. He looked up and she’d disappeared again. Had she not heard him or was she ignoring him? Not one to give up easily, he peered into the kitchen, where he found her, sipping coffee and staring blankly at her phone. “If you’re here, will Wilby still be requiring his walks?”

She looked up, seemingly shocked that he’d gone so far as to  _ continue _ attempting to make conversation with her, despite her obvious disinterest.

“Well, yeah, how else would he do… what he needs to do?” She made a face at the idea of a dog doing its business, wrinkling her nose and waving her fingers around like she’d touched a spider web.

“Oh, I just… I thought if you were here, perhaps…”

“I don’t do dogs.” Her eyebrows raised slightly, daring him to challenge her.

And Killian considered it for a moment. After all, he never did understand how people couldn’t love dogs.

“Ah, well, good thing I’m not out of a job then.” He laughed.  She didn’t. “Anyway, as I mentioned, I’m Killian Jones.” He held out his hand. She couldn’t pretend not to hear him now.

“Emma.” She took his hand reluctantly. Killian expected her hand to fall limp in his, so he was surprised when she gripped his hand tightly and shook it once before letting go. “David’s sister. I’m… staying here for a bit.” The look in her eyes told Killian not to push.

“A pleasure, Emma. David never mentioned a sister.”

“We’re not close.” She turned away, clearly finished with the conversation.

The more she tried to shut him out, the more Killian wanted to know. How had she gotten so hard, so closed off? Why had David never mentioned her before? Who was this mysterious Emma, and why was Killian so intrigued by her?

“Well, I imagine we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other now, at any rate. I’ll see you on Wednesday if you’re home.” Killian tried to ignore the piece of his brain telling him that he hoped she would be home.

**

Later that evening, Killian’s phone rang while he was relaxing in front of the television.

**DAVID NOLAN** , the screen read. Killian groaned, preparing himself for a last-minute walk request. While it was true that the Nolans were friends of his, they rarely called him just to say hello. When Killian had first moved into town, David had been one of his close friends. But as he and Mary Margaret had grown more serious, their friendship had faded.  _ The perils of getting married _ , Killian mused darkly. Still, if they needed a last minute walk for some emergency or other, he was happy to oblige. He put on his best customer service smile, even though he was alone in his living room.

“Killian, I am  _ so sorry! _ ” David was talking before Killian had even finished saying ‘hello’. “I should have told you Emma was staying with us. It was just so sudden and I didn’t even think about the fact that she’d be home.”

“No need for apologies, David. I assure you, it was no problem.” The smile turned genuine as Killian let his mind wander towards the stranger he’d met earlier that day. Emma was a mystery; one Killian found himself wanting to solve.

“She can be a bit… distant. I hope she didn’t put you off at all.” David’s voice snapped Killian back into the present. 

“Not a bit. I  _ was _ surprised she won’t be walking Wilby for you while she’s staying…”

“Yeah, she’s not a dog person.” David paused a moment. “Or a cat person.” This time, the pause was so long, Killian thought perhaps he’d lost the call. “Or a people person.” David sighed then, and he sounded almost like a tired father trying to convince his third grader to go play at recess instead of reading inside by herself. He sounded like he’d apologized for Emma’s unfavorable attitude before.

“Not a charmer like her brother then?”

“Ha ha.” Killian could imagine David’s eyes rolling at that. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize. Wilby will still see you Wednesday?”

“Same as always.”

Killian wanted to ask why Emma was staying, what her story was, but he bit his tongue. It wasn’t his place. 

He checked Facebook before he could think better of it, but it gave him nothing. There were tons of  _ Emma Nolan _ s but none of them were the gorgeous-but-angry blonde he’d met that afternoon. He tried David’s friends list, but there were no Emmas there at all. How odd.

He’d just have to get to know her the old-fashioned way, then.

**

That Wednesday, when he showed up at apartment 3B, he knocked as always.

“Yeah?” She blocked the door again, but stepped aside when she recognized his face. “Oh. Dog walker, right?” She wore a simple black t-shirt and blue pajama shorts that fit her  _ much _ better than the clothes she’d clearly been borrowing from her brother on Killian’s previous visit. There was no makeup on her face, and just a bit of toothpaste remained in the corner of her mouth, as though she’d finished up quickly to answer the door.

“Aye, that’s me.”

She didn’t say another word, just walked away, leaving the door open for him. He sighed and walked to the coat hooks. He whistled for Wilby and was on his way.

Again, after his walk, he tried to make conversation.

“So, will you be in town a while then?”

“Probably.” She was eating a sandwich at the kitchen island, not bothering to finish the bite in her mouth before she spoke.

“Well, if you need someone to show you around…”

“Then I’ll ask my brother,” she replied with an air of finality. Killian didn’t quit.

“Listen Emma, I was new around here once myself. I’m just trying to be polite. I know if my brother lived with me, I wouldn’t want to spend all my time with him.” Killian tried to ignore the pang in his heart when he thought of his brother. “So, again, if you need someone to show you around, I’m happy to be a tour guide, or a drinking buddy, or whatever.”

She looked a bit shocked that he’d said all of that, or perhaps that he’d called her on her attitude. She swallowed, slowly.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll see you Friday, then.”

**

Killian was perturbed that he couldn’t get Emma out of his head. It wasn’t like he’d never met a pretty girl before. He walked Ruby Lucas’ Alaskan Malamute once a week after all, and Ruby Lucas was an absolute knockout. 

But Emma struck a chord with him somewhere deep inside. And her reluctance to talk to him only made it worse.

Friday came, and Killian knocked on the door of apartment 3B, expecting another curt greeting. Instead, when the door opened, Wilby leaped out, only to be pulled back at the last moment.

“I uh… I wasn’t sure how to put the harness on, so the leash is just hooked to his collar. I wasn’t sure if that was good enough or not.” She looked a bit embarrassed.

“Ah, I’ll teach you. It’s not so hard.” He walked into the apartment, over to the coat hooks where the harness was thrown on the floor, likely in frustration. “See how the black part makes a loop here?” Killian clipped the first part of the harness together. “That goes right over Sir Wilby’s head like so...” Wilby ducked his head through the loop, eager to get the show on the road. “Then the gray section goes under his chest like this...” Killian leaned around Wilby awkwardly, to clip the final piece of the harness without blocking Emma’s view. “Just make sure the silver clip is in the front or the harness is pretty useless.” Killian attached the leash to the clip as he pointed it out. He looked up at her, expecting to see her daydreaming or rolling her eyes, but she was watching him intently.

“Could I… could I try it?”

“Sure!” He unclipped the harness and scratched Wilby behind the ears as a reward for being so patient. He watched as Emma examined the harness, made the loop, and positioned the clip.

“On your first try! You’re a natural.” He grinned, his tongue sticking out between his teeth, and winked at her. She blushed, the tips of her ears and the apples of her cheeks turning pink. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shown you - I may be out of a job soon.”

Her face fell, and Killian was reminded of their first meeting; her closed-off attitude and unwillingness to talk at all.

“Oh Wilby doesn’t like me all that much. I doubt he’d like me walking him.” She crossed her arms and took a step backwards, distancing herself from Wilby. Or from Killian.

“Wilby?” Killian pointed at the dog beside him in disbelief. “Wilby likes everyone.” Killian scratched him behind the ears. “Leroy tricks the poor boy every day, pretending to hold treats when there are none, and he still kisses him all over his grumpy face.”

“Well, not me.” She rolled her eyes and turned away, once again ending a conversation on her own terms.

Killian was nothing if not persistent.

“I’ll be back before you know it. By the way, Wilby happens to be a fan of those cheese sticks your brother keeps a large stock of,” Killian said with a wink.

Her lips turned up at the corners, though she tried not to smile, but she didn’t say another word.

After Wilby’s walk, Emma was nowhere to be found, but her half-eaten sandwich was still on the counter, as though she’d just run out a moment before he’d arrived.

**

On Monday, Killian wasn’t sure what to expect. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but it opened and his knuckles hit thin air.

“The cheese thing worked,” Emma smiled proudly as she handed Wilby over, harnessed and ready to go. “He spent half the weekend in my lap.”

Killian stared at her eyes, which seemed to sparkle now, and the small crinkles that formed in the corner. At the way her bottom teeth were just the slightest bit crooked. He forced the stuttering in his heart to slow and realized he still hadn’t responded to what she’d told him.

“Told you. Wilby likes everyone.”

“I’ve just… never really been a dog person.”

“David mentioned that.”

“How do you get to be a dog person, anyway?” She leaned against the doorframe, and Killian was reminded of how her body had blocked him from entering the apartment when they’d first met. Then, she’d stared daggers at him. Now she looked at him fondly, as though she couldn’t wait for his answer.

“I grew up with dogs. My grandparents always had at least two at a time. It’s in my blood.” Killian found himself hesitant to leave - he desperately wanted to continue chatting with Emma. She’d never engaged with him like this, and he knew he had to tread lightly to make it last.

“I didn’t really grow up with anything,” she responded, and her eyebrows shot up, like she was surprised she’d said that out loud. “Anyway, have fun with Wilby.”

Killian practically heard Emma’s walls slam back into place as she shut the door in his face. Killian had even more questions now than he had before. He wasn’t surprised when the apartment was empty again when he returned from his walk.

**

_ Hey David, thinking of heading to the Rabbit Hole for a pint after dinner, perhaps you and your lady would like to join.  _ -K

**_Tonight? Sure, Mary Margaret and I don’t have anything going on – it’s been a while. Would it be okay if Emma came? She doesn’t really know anyone yet, might be good for her to get out._** -D

That’s exactly what Killian was hoping.

He saw Emma’s telltale blonde hair first. She was at the bar nursing a beer, while David and Mary Margaret looked like they were attempting to hold a conversation with her. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world – until she looked up and her eyes met Killian’s. Her cheeks flushed and she chugged the rest of her beer, flagging down the bartender. Killian got there as she was pulling out some bills.

“Allow me, love.” He winked at her, motioning to the bartender to bring another.

“Not your love,” she mumbled, but she put the cash back in her pocket.

“Killian! Oh, it’s so lovely to see you! It’s been ages!”

“Aye, Mary Margaret, it sure has.”

“Good to see you, Killian.” David raised his beer towards him for a ‘cheers’.

It was all small talk, and Emma looked zoned out of the whole thing. They talked about work, Mary Margaret’s students, and a case David had been working on. Killian told them about how Shirin’s Great Dane had dragged him down the street because she’d come home early and he’d seen the car. Soon, Mary Margaret grew tired and asked David to take her home.

“You ready, Emma?”

She startled at being spoken to, then glanced at her half-finished beer.

“Never fear, lass. I’ll take you home. No sense letting a perfectly good beer go to waste.” Killian resisted the urge to wink, instead looking at her seriously and nodding. “That okay with you?” 

“Um, yeah. That’d be fine.” Emma looked at him and bit her lip.

Mary Margaret watched them, every bit the mother overjoyed at her six-year-old coming home from school with her first friend. David, on the other hand, glanced warily between them, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Be careful, you two. And don’t stay out too late.”

“You’re my brother, not my dad,” Emma responded sharply.

“I know that, I’m-”

“I’ll take care of her, Dave. Get her home in one piece and all that,” Killian assured him.

David nodded and the Nolans exited the bar.

“Thanks, I guess. I hate riding around with them like some weird third wheel slash quasi-daughter. They hold hands while he drives, you know that?” Emma wrinkled her nose up, equally disgusted with her brother’s PDA as she had been with the idea of dog feces.

“I’m not remotely surprised. They’ve always seemed like that kind of couple,” Killian chuckled but Emma wasn’t laughing. He cleared his throat. “Emma, can I ask you something?”

“I’m kind of at your mercy, now, aren’t I?” She met his gaze head on. The corners of her mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. Her barstool was still an arm’s length away, and while Killian wanted to move closer, he didn’t know if she’d allow it. “Unless I want to get a cab and somehow find my way back to that apartment alone.” She smiled at him -  _ really _ smiled - and he took that as permission to continue.

“I’m just curious… what brought you to Storybrooke?” He watched her as he spoke, but her face didn’t change. He quietly added, “you don’t seem happy to have moved in with your brother.” 

“I’m not…  _ un _ happy. I just…” She eyed him carefully, “I ran away from something and I’m not sure it’s all set in yet.”

“Care to elaborate, Nolan?”

“That’s not my name.” She said, staring down into her drink and messing with the foam with the tip of her finger.

“I’m sorry?” Killian couldn’t be sure if she was messing with him. 

“Nolan. My last name isn’t Nolan.” She took a large gulp of her beer.

“Aren’t you David’s sister? Unless you’re…” He glanced at her left hand, saw no ring there.

“I’m not married. I’m adopted.” She stared into her glass, as though she wanted to finish the rest of it in one go. “Sort of. Not officially.” She turned her gaze in the opposite direction, away from Killian.

“I’ve got more questions now than when we started.” Killian didn’t want to push her – didn’t want her to shut him out – but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He thought back to her previous comment: “I didn’t really grow up with anything”. At least  _ that _ question had been answered.

“It’s a pretty long story, Jones.” She smirked at him, finishing her drink. She surprised him by waving down the bartender.

“I’ve got all night.”

It took three rounds altogether for Emma Swan – not Nolan – to share her story. The beginning was simple, if depressing – bounced around the foster system, never getting adopted.

“I never even stayed in one place long enough to choose a sports team,” she laughed, or almost laughed.

“Swan, that’s-”

She waved him off, as though it were nothing. As though every kid grew up without some type of hometown pride. 

“It’s okay. I never had anyone to teach me the rules anyway - what good would rooting for a team have done if I didn’t know what I was rooting for?” Her smile was sad, and Killian was surprised when she continued. When she was fifteen, she’d met some idiot who’d convinced her to go in on some scheme with him. She was vague on the specifics – something to do with stolen watches and a large amount of betrayal and heartbreak. But Officer David Nolan, a rookie at the time, had taken pity on her. His mother, Ruth, had taken her in, making sure she completed her community service and stayed on the correct side of the law. Emma had turned eighteen before the adoption papers had been finalized, but the Nolans were still her family; the only family she had.

“So then, I guess the real question is, what brought you  _ back _ to Storybrooke, Swan?” he asked as he drove her home. “Back to your family?”

“Come on, you haven’t heard enough yet?”

Killian parked the car outside of the Nolans’ apartment building, and turned to look at her.

“Never.”

She stared him down, then took a deep breath. “I was running from a guy.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I’d been seeing him for a while and things got… bad.” She rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe what she was admitting and climbed out of the car.

“Bad?” Killian’s jaw ticked. He began walking her to her door.

“He just got… mean. I don’t know how else to put it. Like, all the things he claimed he loved about me, he didn’t anymore...” Emma wasn’t looking at him, but at the ground. She rubbed her right arm with her left, and Killian wanted nothing more than to hug her. She sounded sad and Killian didn’t want to push, but he also couldn’t leave a good evening on such a sour note.

“Then he’s a fool.”

“I don’t think he is. I’m just nothing special.” The way she said it was flippant. Like she’d heard it so many times that it had simply become a fact.

He stopped walking as they reached the front door.

“You  _ are _ something special, Emma. I’m sorry you’ve spent so long thinking you’re not,”  he said softly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her in some way - her hand, her face, anything. He tried to get her to look at him, and after several moments of silence, she did.

Then suddenly she was kissing him.

Her hands were on the lapels of his coat, pulling him to her. He responded eagerly, hands in her hair, tongue tracing her lips.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted Emma until she was gripping his coat, his hands in her hair, pulling her closer. He’d felt a strange tension in his stomach - “butterflies”, his mother would have said - since he’d met her. But he’d thought it was an attraction, a crush.  _ This _ was something entirely different. He was consumed by Emma Swan. Her taste, her smell, the feel of her mouth pressed against his.

It was over as quickly as it began.

“That was…” Killian trailed off, wanting very much to  _ keep _ kissing her, to keep talking about her, learning about her—

“A one time thing,” she said with finality, nearly running up the stairs inside.

**

Two weeks.

It had been two full weeks since Killian Jones had seen Emma Swan. She hadn’t been home during any of Wilby’s walks and he hadn’t run into her – not that he’d expected to. He was beginning to think she’d up and left again. He wasn’t sure how to ask David without sounding like a sad child wondering where his old dog had gone.

Finally, on a Wednesday afternoon, he ran into her.

Literally.

He was about 15 minutes early for his walk with Wilby, checking his schedule on his phone. He heard a door close, but thought nothing of it until he collided head first with-

“Emma?”

“Shit, Killian, I’m sorry. I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m in a rush. Or whatever.”

She glanced at her wrist, which bore no watch, and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked  towards the apartment she’d just left.

“Emma, wait. Where are you going?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was still looking around, glancing up the stairs. A few strands of hair fell into her face and she tucked them back again.

“Emma, are you avoiding me?”

She stared at the ground.

“What, you’ve been leaving the apartment 15 minutes before I get here for Wilby’s walks? Just to avoid seeing me?” Killian was surprised by the anger in his own voice. It had, after all, been just one kiss. But dammit he’d  _ liked it _ , and he’d liked  _ her _ and then she’d just… disappeared. He felt his hands curl into fists. “Because of one stupid kiss?”

Emma flinched at that and Killian wished he could take it back: the kiss had been anything but stupid.

“I just didn’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Emma. I… I very much enjoyed that night, kiss or no. I’d be happy to chat again sometime. It was genuinely nice to get to know you. So if you’ve been avoiding me, I really wish you’d stop.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I um… I had a nice time, too. I don’t usually tell people… all of that. It was nice to let it out.” She looked at him, and Killian could see the tension leave her shoulders as she forced a shaky breath out.

“Would you like to come with me to walk Wilby?”

“Oh, I actually do have somewhere to be.” She checked the time on her phone. “But I’ll take a raincheck?” Her teeth met her lip, and she looked at him warily.

“Deal.”

The way her eyes lit up caused Killian’s heart to jump and it was then he realized: he was smitten.

**

_“Money can buy you a fine dog, but only love can make him wag his tail.”_

_― Kinky Friedman_

It was another week before Emma was home when Killian arrived.

“I got a job!” She told him as she handed Wilby off. She was grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That’s where I had to go the other day – an interview.”

“And you got it!” Killian couldn’t help but catch her excitement. He’d never seen her this happy – a far cry from the scowl she’d worn when they’d first met.

“I did! It’s nothing fancy, just some filing and paperwork at the police station.” She bit her lip, trying to contain herself, but the smile was still there.

“Working with your brother, then.” He wanted to tell her that a job didn’t need to be fancy if it made her happy.

“Yeah.” Emma blushed, a faint smile on her lips.

“Do you have to go, then? Or would you like to take me up on that rain check?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I do have to go.” She looked disappointed as she said it; almost as disappointed as Killian felt.

“No worries, I’m here often, as you know. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” He was hesitant to leave, despite Wilby’s small whine and hopeful look towards the hallway. “There will be other chances.” He was rambling, but her smile was growing with every word, and he couldn’t stop himself. 

Until Wilby’s whine turned into a full-on groan and Killian let the dog pull him out the door.

The following evening Killian was dozing off on the couch when his phone rang. He glanced at the clock: 10:16 PM. Whoever was calling could bugger off. Probably a last minute walk needed for tomorrow. They’d leave a message and he’d check it in the morning.

The phone finally stopped ringing only to start up again a moment later. Killian grumbled as he climbed out of the nest of blankets and reached over to the coffee table. An unfamiliar number greeted him. He rolled his eyes, deciding once again not to answer.

When it rang a third time, he lost his patience.

“Yes!?” He practically growled into the phone.

“Killian?”

“Swan?”

“Yes! Killian, oh thank God. I need your help. Can you come to the apartment right away? Please?” She sounded panicky and possibly like she’d been crying.

“I’m on my way.” Pajama pants were better than nothing, he reasoned. Killian threw on his sneakers and shrugged into his leather coat, shuddering at the way the material rubbed against his bare torso. He nearly ran the entire way.

He hadn’t even had a chance to knock before the door flew open.

“Oh thank God!” she said again and yanked him inside.

“Emma, love, what’s going on?” He tried to get her to stand still, but she was dragging him towards the living room. He should find it laughable that Emma, who’d done everything in her power to avoid him for weeks, was now nearly pulling the sleeve of his jacket apart trying to get him inside. But she still wasn’t talking, and he was growing worried by her silence.

“It’s Wilby. He’s been vomiting this yellow stuff and I don’t know what to do. David and Mary Margaret went away for  _ one night _ and they trusted me and they obviously shouldn’t have because-”

“Emma, breathe. Show me what’s coming up.” He gripped her shoulders and forced her to stay still. 

She took a breath and showed him a pile of yellow foam.

“Did Wilby eat his dinner?”

“No! He wouldn’t eat it! I put it down hours ago but he wouldn’t touch it.” She was tucking her hair behind her ears and rambling so quickly that her sentences sounded like one word. She tugged at the hem of her shirt, staring at the foam, looking horrified.

“Do you know the last time he ate?”

“Um, there was still some food leftover when I added his dinner to the bowl, so probably breakfast, but not all of it.” She was focusing on his questions but she still had an ironclad grip on his wrist. “He could have eaten later than that, I guess, or maybe the food in the bowl was from before David and Mary Margaret even left and he didn’t eat this morning.” She was working herself back up, her grip tightening more.

“Wilby, come here, pal.” Wilby hopped off the couch and nuzzled Killian’s leg. “Are you being a stubborn one today? You don’t want to eat for your Aunt Emma?”

“Aunt?” She sounded surprised at the word.

“Well sure. If David and Mary Margaret are his parents, then that makes you his aunt.”

“I’d never thought of it like that.” Her panic must have been subsiding because she let go of Killian’s arm. He felt both relief that she’d calmed down enough to do so, but also strangely sad and almost lonely without her touch.

Killian sat next to Wilby’s bowl of food. He tried coaxing Wilby to eat, but he merely sniffed it and backed up, defiance in his eyes. Killian held out a handful to him, hoping a smaller amount would seem less daunting, but he simply sniffed it again. He checked Wilby’s eyes and nose, searching for signs of discomfort, but found none. 

“You  _ are _ being a stubborn one. Emma, would you grab one of those cheese sticks our boy here is so fond of?”

She returned with a plastic wrapped tube of cheese and Wilby’s eyes lit up immediately. There was a  _ thump thump thump _ as his tail started whacking against the counter behind him. He sat, laid down, and rolled over in quick succession, hoping for a reward.

“Ah, ah. We’re not doing tricks for treats today, sir.” Killian opened the cheese and tore off small chunks, mixing them into Wilby’s food with his hand. This time, Wilby immediately dove in, eager to get his favorite snack, and not seeming to mind if he had to get some other food in his system to boot.

“Killian, you’re a genius!”

“We’ll still want to watch him, make sure he doesn’t gulp it all down in one go.” He gestured towards the paper towels on the counter, and Emma handed him one to wipe off the dust from the dog food.

“Why do you think he wasn’t eating?”

“Sometimes dogs are like kids. His parents are gone, so he wants to see what he can get away with. You just have to remind him who’s in charge.” Killian smiled at her, and she offered him her hand to help stand. He took it, but she didn’t let go once he was upright.

“Will you, um... stay and make sure he’s really okay? I’m going to clean up the mess from earlier. I just left it so you could see.”

“Sure, I’ll stay, Swan.” She looked relieved as she grabbed the paper towels.

In the end, he stayed an hour, talking with Emma about her new job and the nuances of living with your pseudo-brother. Then he headed home and crawled into bed, falling asleep immediately and dreaming of blonde hair and a face that used to scowl, but now only seemed to smile.

**

A week later, she finally took him up on his offer to walk Wilby together. 

“His name was Walsh,” she blurted out.

Killian looked at her but didn’t say anything, waiting for her to work through how much she wanted to share.

“The guy I ran from. His name was Walsh.” She paused, watching Killian from the corner of her eye. “He didn’t  _ get _ me, even during the good times. I think… I think he just wanted me because I’m broken. Like he thought he could be this great savior who fixed me and I’d just be eternally grateful or something.” She shook her head, lost in memories.

“You’re not broken, Emma.” He kept his voice low, and she took so long to respond that he thought perhaps she hadn’t heard him.

“You don’t know that.” She shoved her hands into the her pockets, staring straight ahead, squinting against the sun.

“You’re a person. A human. Humans aren’t broken, they’re just flawed. All of us. You certainly don’t need anyone to fix you. I happen to think you’re wonderful the way you are.” He’d stopped walking while he spoke, making sure he was looking directly into her eyes. She met them for a moment before staring at the ground, kicking  the sidewalk.

“Thank you, Killian. That’s… um. Thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

Killian cleared his throat. He forced himself to look away.

“Yeah, well, anyway, this Walsh fellow must not have been the savior he saw himself as if you left so abruptly.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “No, he certainly was not.”

“May I ask… what it was that brought you  _ here _ after all of it?”

“He decided I wasn’t worth it anymore. We worked together – that was my first mistake. And he just decided I was no longer a good enough project. He told everyone I’d flown off the handle, gone crazy on him. Lies to make people feel bad for him and praise him for putting up with me for so long. I left and this was the only place I could go.”

“This guy sounds like a complete bastard,” Killian spat out.

This time when she laughed, it was a full-on belly laugh. A happy sound, one Killian hadn’t heard before, and he found himself wanting to hear it more.

“Thank you. I needed that.” She wiped a tear from her eye, still smiling.

“I’m serious, Emma. That’s awful. I’d… honestly I’d like to punch him in his face.” Killian smiled back at her, meeting her eyes. 

“No need. Before I left I sent out some of the… pictures he’d sent me to the whole staff. They weren’t flattering. Trust me, I’ve gotten my revenge.”

It was Killian’s turn to laugh. He had to stop walking for a moment, doubled over in the middle of the sidewalk, Wilby staring up at him with his head tilted. Killian’s eyes were tearing up he was laughing so hard, and soon Emma joined in. They must have looked quite the pair, crying from laughter with a dog who wasn’t quite in on the joke.

They finally regained their sanity and continued down the block.

“I suppose that’s it for today,” Killian said as he unclipped Wilby’s harness and prepared to leave.

“See you Friday?” She asked.

“Will you be here?” Killian focused on keeping his tone even as he realized that she seemed to be finished with avoiding him. He didn’t let himself dwell on the hopeful look in her eyes or the way she bit her lip or the way her hands moved when they tucked her hair behind her ears. 

“Yes,” she said simply, as though there were no other possible answer.

“Don’t suppose you’d want to get a drink after?” He bit his lip hopefully, unsure when he’d regressed back to being a seventeen-year-old with a crush on the girl who’d sat across from him.

“With David and Mary Margaret?”

“If you’d like,” Killian was a bit disappointed – he’d hoped for some more alone time with Emma. But he’d take any time with her he could get. Even time with her police detective pseudo-brother.

Especially if it meant that Emma kept smiling at him like she was in that very moment.

**

Friday night came and Killian found himself at the Rabbit Hole again.

When he walked in Emma was telling her brother a story; eyes bright and hands moving as she spoke. David was watching her, a smile on his face. Killian stood in the doorway, feeling as though he were intruding on a private family moment.

“Killian!” Mary Margaret’s soft voice came from behind him.

“Mary Margaret, great to see you.”

“Are you joining us, or are you just going to stand here all night?” She looked towards the bar, then back at Killian meaningfully.

“I just… didn’t want to interrupt,” Killian gestured towards Emma, still gesturing wildly and smiling as she narrated.

“Nonsense!” She grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the bar. “Look who I found!”

“Killian!” Emma jumped off her barstool and hugged him.

He took a moment to respond before wrapping his arms around her, breathing her in. He tried to savor the moment, unsure when she’d feel up to such a greeting again. She pulled away slowly, smiling at him.

“Good to see you too, Swan. Had a bit to drink, have we?” He raised an eyebrow. She didn’t look drunk, but he wasn’t sure if she’d been motivated to hug him by pure liquid courage or if perhaps...

“No! I’m DDing these two crazy kids tonight. Just water for me.” She gestured to her glass on the bar.

“We don’t need a designated driver.” David rolled his eyes.

“Um, excuse me,  _ Officer _ Nolan, but I beg to differ,” Emma stuck her tongue out at him.

“I think it’s sweet that you want us to have fun, Em, but we’re not big drinkers. I haven’t even had a glass yet.” Mary Margaret took the seat next to David, leaving Killian to take the empty stool next to Emma.

“Then get one!”

Finally the Nolans conceded and ordered enough drinks to satisfy Emma. Mary Margaret again grew tired fairly early. Killian tried his best not to feel disappointment when the night was coming to a close.

“Come on, Jones, you’re riding with me.” Emma grabbed his hand, pulling him from his barstool.

“Excuse me?” He stared at their joined hands before looking at her.

“You’ve had at least three shots since we got here, on top of a few beers. I’m driving you, too.”

“I’m fine, Emma.” What had gotten into her?

“Don’t even try, Killian, she’ll never stop. Just give in. It’s easier,” David slurred slightly.

“Apparently it’s my turn to be at your mercy then, lass. Lead the way.”

Emma smiled triumphantly, dug her keys out of her bag, and led the group to quite possibly the ugliest car Killian had ever seen.

A bright yellow bug with a backseat barely large enough for a child awaited him; Emma smirked as he stared.

“That’s… quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.” He smiled and raised his eyebrow at her, eyeing the backseat carefully.

“This car has been there for me longer than any human has,” she responded, daring him to say another word. He held up his hands in defeat and thanked his lucky stars that the Nolans had climbed in first, smushing themselves together, Mary Margaret’s legs on David’s lap so Killian could move the front seat to allow himself some legroom.

They rode in silence and Killian was surprised she didn’t ask him for directions. When they parked outside of David’s apartment building, Killian realized he was walking home.

Ah, well.

“Killian! Where are you going?” Emma called.

“Erm… home, lass. Where else would I go?”

“I just meant, um… I thought maybe I’d walk with you. If that’s okay.”

Killian’s head nodded and his feet started moving once Emma was by his side, but his brain hadn’t fully caught up.

If Emma wanted to walk him home, how would  _ she _ then get home? Unless she didn’t plan to go home at all? Killian was not opposed to Emma Swan spending the night in his bed, but he also knew that Emma had made it clear that she only wanted to be his  _ friend _ . Hadn’t she? She’d certainly been silent enough for two entire weeks after that kiss – the one he still thought about quite often, thank you very much.

They arrived at his doorstep, neither having spoken for the entire walk, Killian lost in his own headspace.

“Could I… would it be okay if… I mean I don’t…” Suddenly Emma seemed  _ very _ nervous and Killian was even more lost than when she’d asked to walk him home.

He was surprised to hear himself asking, “Would you like to come in, Swan?”

She smiled – that small, tentative smile that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Sure.”

Now there would be no more driving, Killian grabbed a bottle of rum and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table. He threw on some random Spotify station and once he’d settled onto the couch, Emma spoke.

“I want to ask you out. To dinner. Or something.” Her eyes were wide and her lip was caught by her teeth.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?” Killian laughed, attempting to ease the tension.

“Should have known you’d be old-fashioned.” She laughed, small and quiet, as though she wasn’t sure what his response meant.

“I happily accept... on one condition.” He took her hands in his. “You let me plan the evening.”

She smiled again and Killian didn’t want to ruin the moment, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“I have to ask, Swan. You seemed… uninterested in pursuing anything with me. I mean, for a while there, I was fairly certain I disgusted you.”

“You never disgusted me, Killian. I just…” She took a deep breath, forced herself to look him in the eye, “I didn’t want to take a chance that I was wrong about you.”

“Wrong?” He frowned, confused. He’d been under the assumption that she thought poorly of him.  

“You seem so genuine and good and just… the opposite of everything I’ve ever known. And if I was wrong, if I let you in and got hurt again, I’m not sure if I would have been able to handle it.”

“What changed?”

“You came.” She said quietly. “Like, as soon as I called the other night, you were there. Before you knew Wilby was sick. No questions asked. No one’s… ever done that for me.”

Killian took her hand in his, feeling not for the first time that it wasn’t fair someone like Emma Swan had been dealt such an awful hand in life.

“I do have one more question, actually.” Killian smirked, realizing he’d been so worried on the night in question that one detail had eluded him.

“What’s that?”

“How did you get my number?”

“Oh um… David gave it to me. You’re like, the only person in town I know besides his cop buddies, so, he wanted me to be able to call someone.”

“Smart man, David Nolan.”

“Seems so.”

**

They fell asleep on the couch; a tangle of arms and legs and a soreness in the morning that had both of them looking like they almost regretted it. Almost.

He cooked breakfast while Emma watched him over her coffee.

“Alright, Jones, my turn to ask a question.”

“Anything, love.” Killian expected to feel nervous under her gaze, but he realized anything she wanted to know, he’d tell her.

“Why are  _ you _ here? In Storybrooke, I mean.”

“Change of pace,” Killian responded automatically. The same answer he’d given since the day he’d rolled into town.

“Mmm, sounds like a half-truth,” she raised an eyebrow. He should have been surprised she’d seen right through his standard response, but he wasn’t.

“It’s not as exciting as your story, I’m afraid.”

“Exciting? That’s… hardly the word I’d use to describe my past. Insane, maybe.”

“I simply wanted to get away from my father. That’s it.” She still eyed him carefully and he wondered if she could tell he was lying. He felt like she could read him too well. Eventually she accepted his answer, as well as the bacon and eggs he piled onto her plate.

“You mentioned a brother before.”

“Aye, Liam. He’s older. Still lives back home in England.” Killian thought back to one of their earliest conversations, when he’d vaguely mentioned his brother in passing. He was flattered she’d remembered such a detail. For the first time, he realized that she had been intrigued by him as long as he had been by her. “He and my father both wanted me to stay and work with them for the rest of my life. I saw a different future for myself.

“You sound bitter.”

“We haven’t spoken in… a long time. They didn’t – still don’t, I suppose – agree with my decision to leave.”

“Why?”

“Liam thought I was running away from my problems instead of facing them and that it would come back to get me later.” It suddenly struck him how easy it was to talk to Emma and he decided to admit the full truth rather than part of it. “There was also a woman.”

“There always is.” She smiled, but she looked briefly bitter herself.

“She was married, but I found myself falling for her anyway. We dated behind her husband’s back. She kept telling me she was going to leave him, but of course, she didn’t.”

“They never do.” Her smile was a bit more teasing now. Killian smiled despite the intensity of the conversation.

“At any rate, Liam thought I should just stay and deal with the breakup, but I needed to get out. I was going down bad paths, drinking too much. I needed a fresh start. Storybrooke was the place.”

“Seems like that’s what Storybrooke is best for.”

“It does indeed.” 

“You still didn’t answer my original question, though.” Emma was grinning now.

“I didn’t?”

“Nope. That’s why you left home. But why are you  _ here _ ?” 

“Ah, that’s much less exciting, I’m afraid. I kept flipping a coin: heads for right, tails for left, until I found a town that seemed like it could possibly be home. And here I am.” Killian paused, considering his next question carefully. “Does your brother know you were planning to spend the night here?”

“He’s not my keeper,” she said defensively.

“I know that, Swan, I just meant… does he know we’re going on a date? Any of that? It’s just… he’s still my employer. I’d rather not make him angry.”

“He’s not going to fire you.” And the way she said it made Killian think David Nolan knew  _ exactly _ where his sister was and that there had already been  _ quite _ a discussion about it.

“You’ve told him then.” Killian laughed.

“I asked him. About you. He and Mary Margaret had  _ vastly _ different opinions on whether I should ask you on that date.”

“David loves me!”

“Sure- but he doesn’t love you for his sister,” she admitted.

“But he agreed in the end apparently. And I didn’t sense tension at the bar last night, so you must have said something to bring him around.”

“I told him about the night with Wilby. How you came right away and stayed until I felt better. I didn’t want to tell him, just so you know. I felt like an awful… dog aunt.” The corners of her lips turned up on the last word. “But he was so adamantly against my dating you because he’s insanely overprotective of me. So I had to tell him.”

“Thank you, Swan.” He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes, hoping he was conveying the sincerity he felt.

“Sure, sure. Just make sure that date is worth it.” She winked at him. “I should go. Thanks for breakfast and for this horrible kink in my neck I’m gonna be dealing with all day,” she said putting her coat on. She paused when she realized what she’d said, and Killian resisted the urge to joke about any other  _ kinks _ she may have.

“I’d have gladly had you sleep in my bed, Emma. With or without me. Just so you know for the future,” he said seriously.

“Hmm. It wasn’t so bad.” She bit her lip when she said it, looking him right in the eyes. “But I’ll keep that in mind.” And then she was gone.

**

“A baseball game?” She sounded almost accusatory.

“I’m not sure what that tone means.”

“I’m just… surprised. It’s not exactly romantic, is it?”

Killian froze on the concourse and stared at Emma incredulously.

“Baseball is  _ decidedly _ romantic, Swan, I’ll have you know.”

She laughed a bit and put her hands up in defeat.

“Do I get to ask why?”

“Not yet.” He smiled at her.

They’d arrived at Citizens Bank Park early, nearly as soon as the gates opened.

“Batting practice,” he told her, gesturing towards the field with a proud smile on his face.

“Uh-huh,” Emma responded dully, but there was a hopefulness in her eyes that Killian was certain he wasn’t imagining.

“Hey, Freddy, it’s my friend’s first game, how ‘bout a ball?” Killian shouted to the field. Emma smacked him on the arm.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting you a souvenir,” he said simply, leaning his hat out past the flowerbeds and smoothly catching the ball that the shortstop had tossed his way. He shouted his thanks and handed the ball to Emma. It was stained with grass and dirt from its journey across the field, but she stared at it like a diamond ring.

“You caught it, shouldn’t you keep it?”

“No, Swan, I caught it for you.”

“Are you friends with him or something?” Emma’s eyes widened as she asked. Killian grinned at her.

“Freddy Galvis? Not quite, love. I just know how to politely get a ball from a player when only ten other people show up for BP.” As he spoke, a chorus of children – and a few grown men – shouting _ ‘here here give it here!’ _ rang out and Killian raised his eyebrow. “And it’s not like  _ that _ .”

Emma laughed so Killian took a chance, grabbed her hand and went to buy some hot dogs.

“So, why the Phillies?” she asked him as they took their seats. “I know you live here now, but you’re not even from America.”

“When I first got here, I did everything by myself. But when I went to a game, I was a part of something bigger.”

She nodded.

“Just a heads up, Jones, I know  _ nothing _ about baseball, so you’re gonna have to walk me through this.”

“I’d like nothing more, love.”

So Killian explained defensive positions, batting order, different statistics on the large screen across from them. He showed her the foul poles and pointed out the pitchers warming up in the bullpen. She listened intently, seemingly wanting to absorb everything she could. By the bottom of the fifth, she was screaming right alongside him, with the Phillies down one-nothing.

“Mackanin, what are you doing? Buchanan’s barely thrown 80 pitches!”

“I do believe you’re getting the hang of this, Swan!”

“He’s throwing a good game, we’re only down by one!”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, love.” He beamed, unable to take his eyes off her.

The sixth inning brought a two-run homer by Freddy Galvis.

“Freddy!” Emma screamed as he rounded the bases and when the Liberty Bell chimed behind the outfield she was mesmerized. “Does it do that every time they score?”

“Just for home runs.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I knew you’d like it. I was hoping they’d score a homerun for you tonight.”

“It was Freddy.” She was smiling. “Your not-friend.”

“It was indeed.”

By the seventh inning stretch Killian had a small collection of empty wrappers surrounding him.

“Alright, Swan, we did hot dogs, commemorative cups, popcorn, pretzels, and the ice cream in the little hats that you’re insisting we keep.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Anything else you’d like to try to make your baseball experience complete?”

“Well according to the song, I need peanuts and Cracker Jacks.”

“Cracker Jacks are disgusting.”

“Won’t know till I try.”

Killian sighed and stood to go wait in line.

“Oh, God, these are  _ awful _ ,” Emma said as she spit out a mouthful.

“Told you.”

She flung one at his head.

“So is this an important game?”

“It’s the Chicago Cubs, who’ve been great the past two years, but they’re not direct competition just yet. It’s still early in the season, so you could argue every game is important or none of them are important individually. At any rate, unless you’re playing a division rival, no one’s very invested quite yet.” He gestured at the empty seats around the stadium.

“And who are the division rivals?”

“The Marlins, Braves, Mets, and Nationals,” Killian growled the last name out.

“Wow, so you really don’t like the Nationals, huh?”

“Some would argue that the Mets are our real rival, but the Nationals have been much better in recent years and more recent fans, such as myself, hate the Nats just a bit more than the Mets.”

“Sounds like you’re pretty invested, Jones.”

“It’s impossible not to be. You meet people at a game and you’re cheering and rooting for the same thing - a common goal. And it’s just a moment in time. There’s no pressure, no need to make an impression or be anything but yourself. You’re just part of a mutual experience, and then you celebrate or mourn together, and then you go your separate ways.”

She looked at him like she understood, and she watched the rest of the game with her arm looped through his, yelling and booing in unison with the rest of the crowd.

The Phillies won 2-1 and Killian bought himself a Galvis jersey on the way out. Emma paused, then grabbed one for herself, too.

“We can wear them together next time,” she said simply.

**

_The love of a dog is a pure thing. He gives you a trust which is total. You must not betray it._

_― Michel Houellebecq_

 

_ One Month Later _

 

It was eight in the morning and  _ someone _ was knocking on Killian’s door. His first thought was  _ Emma? _ But she was curled up next to him, seemingly able to sleep through the noise.

Who the hell was knocking on his door so early on a Saturday?

“Killian, open the damn door.”

Liam?

Carefully untangling himself from Emma, Killian walked slowly down the hall. He peeked through the peephole and sure enough, there was Liam Jones. He opened the door.

“About bloody time, little brother.”

“It’s eight in the morning and I’ve nothing to do today. I certainly wasn’t expecting any visitors, least of all you. And I’m younger, but I’m not little, Liam.”

“Same difference.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” It was far too early for this and he wished Liam would keep his voice down so as not to wake—

“What the hell is happening out here?” came a grumpy voice. When she saw Liam, her eyes widened and she moved to cover herself; a difficult task in the tanktop and shorts she had slept in.

“No wonder you were sleeping in, Killian. Who’s this, then? Where’s  _ her _ husband?”

“I’m not married. I’m Emma. You must be Liam.” And Emma Swan held out her hand to shake Liam Jones’ like it was the most normal morning in the world. She raised an eyebrow, and Killian did his best not to laugh as he realized where she learned  _ that _ move from…

“I am indeed. My little brother talks about me, then?” Liam had the audacity to smile  _ proudly _ , as though Killian would have had anything kind to say about him.

“He said you got so pissed at him for wanting to live his own life that you stopped speaking to him instead of just, I dunno, supporting him. That’s about as far as we got though.”

Killian could  _ kiss _ Emma. Right then and there in front of his asshole brother.

“I asked you once already, Liam: what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Liam seemed shaken up by Emma’s bluntness. He remembered himself and cleared his throat.

“I came to make amends.”

“Amends?” Killian’s nose wrinkled up and his lips turned downward. He’d come here, to Storybrooke, ages ago and Liam had never once made an effort to undo the wrongs between them.

“Yes. It’s been seven years, Killian, and I’m sick of not having my little brother in my life.”

“I swear, if you say ‘little’ one more time...” It was still too early and as Killian thought about the distinct lack of coffee in his life, he heard the percolator going and for the second time in ten minutes, he desperately wanted to kiss Emma.

“I’m getting married, Killian. I’d like… I’d  _ love _ for you to come. To be my best man.”

Well,  _ that _ was a surprise. Much like the rest of the morning, Killian supposed.

“What fool would marry your sloppy arse?” Killian tried to ease the tension. It seemed Liam had come in peace.

“Her name is Elsa.”

“Like the Disney movie?” Killian nearly laughed, but he stopped himself.

“She was obviously born before the movie came out, Killian, but yes. She’s Norwegian. And she’s dying to meet you.”

“You flew across the ocean to invite me to your wedding?”

“Well your phone number’s changed so many times I wanted to be sure to reach you.”

“How did you even know I still lived here?”

“Took a chance.”

“Ever heard of mail?”

“Yes, Killian, but I worried you’d toss anything from me before opening it. Besides, that’s not very personal, is it? We’ve gone seven years without speaking and I just invite you to my wedding like any other guest on the list?”

“Aye, you’ve got a point,” Killian conceded as Emma shoved his coffee into his hand. Spoonful of cream, two sugars; perfect. “Thank you, love.”

“So, we’re going to England, I take it?”

“We?” Liam sounded incredulous, wrinkling his nose as though he’d smelled something rotten.

And Killian expected Emma to be offended, or angry, or a little sad. The quiet, scowling blonde who’d opened the apartment door all those months ago certainly would have been all of those things. But, as always, she surprised him.

“Killian will want me there, I assume he gets a plus one as the best man.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

“I suppose-”

“Great, I’m going to go get dressed. Let me know when he gives you the date so I can take off of work and book a flight.” She kissed Killian and made her way back to the bedroom, where a drawer of her clothes waited for her.

“You can’t possibly expect-” Liam began as soon as Emma disappeared.

“If you’d bothered to speak to me once over the past few weeks – never mind months or years – you’d have known about Emma before you got here and you wouldn’t have that look on your face right now. Either she comes with me or I don’t come at all.” Killian sipped his coffee, surprised at how easily he was able to stand up to his older brother who’d intimidated him most of his life.

Liam finally left after Killian promised to meet him for lunch. Killian found Emma in his bedroom, her head between her knees.

“Emma, love? What’s the matter?”

“Why did I do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk to your brother that way.” She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Emma, you were bloody brilliant. I’ve never stood up to my brother in my life until just now. Why are you sitting here looking like you’re going to be sick?”

“I invited myself to his wedding!”

“You did.”

“I didn’t even ask you!”

“You didn’t have to. Of course I want you there.” She lifted her head.

“We’ve only been on one  _ real _ date.” It was true. After the baseball game, there had been plenty of nights out with the Nolans, and Emma slept at Killian’s more often than she slept at her brother’s apartment. But there had been no actual dates. It had gone unspoken: they were together. They didn’t need fancy dinners or sweeping romantic gestures. They were both much more content with a movie and a glass of wine.

“Date shmate.” Killian rolled his eyes. He understood her apprehension, but wanted her to move past it. He took her hands in his. “I love spending time with you and we already know you can handle my brother. It’s not as though this is a lifelong commitment, love. We’re just going to a wedding.”

“In England.”

“Aye, in England.”

“Where your entire family is going to be.”

“Does that bother you? You handled Liam perfectly fine- as I keep reminding you.”

“He looked at me like… I was something rotten.”

Killian sat next to her on the bed.

“Liam wasn’t seeing  _ you _ . He was seeing me and all my past mistakes. I promise you; that look had nothing to do with you. It was completely due to the woman and habits I left behind in England.”

“I didn’t mean to overstep. I thought… I hoped you’d want me there-”

“Of course I do. It’s the only way I’d go. I told Liam so.”

“You did?” Her eyes widened in shock.

“If I have to go home, Emma, I’ll do it on my own terms. And you’re my terms.”

She smiled up at him.

“I’ve got to meet him for lunch in a bit. Would you like to come or should I walk you home?”

“Could I um… could I wait here? Unless you’re doing something else after?”

“I’ve no plans.” He smirked at her. “You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable until I get back.”

“And you’ll bring me grilled cheese from Granny’s?” Emma looked up at him and pouted.

Killian laughed, resisting the urge to climb back into bed. “How do you know we’re going to Granny’s?” 

“Because Storybrooke has exactly two places to eat and I doubt you’re taking your brother to the candlelit Italian place.”

“Oh someone’s got it all figured out, eh?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Grilled cheese? Please?” She batted her eyelashes at him and the word  _ smitten _ crossed his mind once more.

“As you wish.”

**

“I still don’t understand why you need to bring a girl you’ve only just started seeing.” Liam sipped his coffee and stared at Killian from across the booth. The cheeseburger he’d ordered remained untouched while Killian’s plate was nearly empty.

“Because I  _ like her _ , Liam, and I want her by my side if I have to deal with everyone from back home.”

“You act as though they won’t be glad to see you.”

“Will they?” Killian retorted.

Liam was silent for a moment, but moved on quickly. 

“I’m not paying for her airfare.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No one’s asking you to.” Killian rolled his eyes, channeling Emma with the strength of the motion.

“Nor her hotel room.”

“She’s obviously staying in my hotel room, Liam.”

“I thought you’d stay at the house.”

“I certainly will not.” Killian set down his coffee cup with more force than was warranted.

“Killian-”

“No. You and Father made your feelings clear on my leaving when I packed my bags. Leaving England meant that your home was no longer mine. So, I’ll get a hotel room like everyone else, and Emma will stay with me.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Liam’s tone in that moment was reminiscent of the one he’d used when Killian was small.

“You don’t get to say that. You’re getting married, and I’m happy for you, and I’ll be by your side that day. But that doesn’t mean all is forgiven, and it doesn’t mean I’ll feel at home in the Jones’ house anymore. So, again. I’ll get a hotel room, and Emma will stay with me.”

“Fine, you stubborn arse.”

“And while we’re at it, brother, if you make another comment to Emma about Milah, you can consider my RSVP changed to a hard and fast  _ no _ .”

“That was out of line, little brother. I apologize.”

“Younger,” Killian mumbled.

**

_ England, Four Months Later _

 

“Killian, are you sure?” Emma asked _again_. Killian loved her - not that he’d said as much - but she was driving him mad.   

“Yes. They’re going to love you. You’ve already flown to England, love. Can’t avoid meeting the people we’re here to see.” He raised an eyebrow at her, hoping she’d realize how silly she was being.

“I know, it’s just… what if they think I’m the reason you won’t move back?”

It was the fourteenth scenario she’d come up with. She’d spent the entire flight, the ride to the hotel, and the whole time they’d unpacked asking Killian whether his family would hate her for this reason or that. 

They’d never hate her. Killian was sure of it, no matter how stubborn Liam had been. So now, as they entered the church to begin the rehearsal, Killian simply had to prove himself right.

He’d purposely bought a flight that would arrive just in time for the rehearsal. No earlier than necessary. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he knew his brother wouldn’t make a scene in front of his bride-to-be. His father was more mercurial, but Killian was simply hoping for the best.

A beautiful woman with white-blonde hair came flying out of the church to greet them.

“You must be Killian!” She hugged him. “And… Emma?” The woman seemed unsure, but hugged Emma anyway.

“Aye, that’s us. And you are…?” Killian took a step back, placing his arm around Emma’s waist. He looked down at her to gauge her reaction and was surprised to see her smiling.

“I’m Elsa! Your brother didn’t even show you a picture, huh? Just like Liam.” She rolled her eyes, as though Liam Jones was a child she couldn’t help but love. “Everyone’s already here, but you’re just on time. Come on, I’m excited to get started.” She flung open the doors of the church, stopping only briefly to make sure they were following her. 

“You alright, love?” Killian asked Emma. She’d been silent since Elsa had run out and nearly barreled them over.

“I like her.” She smiled up at Killian. “She’s so...  _ happy _ .”

As long as Emma was comfortable, Killian felt he had little else to worry about. If she liked Elsa, then hopefully the Jones clan wouldn’t be so much of a tribulation.

Introductions were made, and Killian was pleased to find Elsa’s sister, Anna, was just as open and friendly. Emma stayed smiling beside him, even as they both struggled to keep up with Anna’s quick talking and change of topic.

“How did you two meet? Was it romantic? Oh, have Elsa and Liam told you their story? It’s so cute, you’ll have to hear it later. My boyfriend isn’t here, but I bet you’d like him. He’s very likeable. Killian, are you going to be wearing a tie or a cummerbund? Liam said he would let you decide. Emma, have you ever been to England before?” It seemed like the girl hardly breathed, but her constant conversation made it much easier for Killian, who was still feeling a bit overwhelmed at being home. A fact he was trying to hide from Emma.

The rehearsal itself was simple: Killian stood at the front of the church beside Liam. Anna was coached on the correct speed, which she didn’t seem embarrassed of in the slightest. Finally, Elsa walked towards her husband-to-be, all heart-eyes and carefree smile. Then the priest acted his way through the vows and Killian did his best not to fall asleep standing up.

Finally Liam and Elsa, unofficially pronounced husband and wife, left through the center aisle. Killian offered his arm to Anna and she grinned up at him, grasping his elbow as they followed behind their respective siblings.

At dinner, Killian did his best to avoid his father. Brennan understood and kept his distance. Liam sat at the center of the table, Elsa to his right. Killian chose seats near the end for himself and Emma, and Anna plopped herself down across from them. 

“Killian, what do you do for a living?” she asked. He waited for more questions or another story, but she simply waited for him to answer. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’m a dog walker. I know it sounds-”

“That’s so cool! I love dogs. I keep telling Kristoff we need to get a dog but he says we’re not home enough; we travel a lot. Do you have a dog of your own?”

“No, I don’t,” he said quietly. Anna’s jaw fell open.

“You  _ don’t _ ? But you work with dogs, right? Why don’t you have one of your own? I’d think you’d be the best person to have a dog, because you know so much about them. I bet you know more about dogs than most people.”

Killian considered making a drinking game out of how many times Anna could say the word ‘dog’ without taking a breath. But he felt Emma watching him, and he knew he’d have to answer. And he’d have to answer honestly.

“I’ve never had something of my own to take care of. Seems easier to care for everyone else’s pets and give them back afterwards. I, uh… I don’t know how well I’d do with a dog of my own.” He smiled, trying to not let the severity of his words dampen the mood. 

Anna nodded knowingly.

“I once had a succulent, and they’re supposed to be these easy plants, right? But I guess I watered it too much or it didn’t get enough sun or  _ something _ and it died so quickly. I held a funeral for it, though. I think it lived a happy life.”

Killian really did like Anna. He wasn’t sure if she was breaking the tension or if she had really held a funeral for a plant, but he liked her all the same. He looked at Emma, hoping she’d be smiling with him at Anna’s innocent response. But she looked… sad. She caught him looking at her and shook it off quickly, laughing belatedly at Anna’s anecdote.

After dinner, Killian excused himself. He wasn’t remotely surprised when his older brother stopped him on the way back to the table. Killian had been right about Liam not starting an argument at the church. But he’d also known his brother would find a way to pick up where they’d left off in Storybrooke. Liam was much too stubborn to let Killian simply walk into the church today and walk back out tomorrow.

“You really brought her?” Liam’s arms were crossed and he was scowling. If Liam hadn’t been so against Emma’s presence, Killian might have mentioned how similar they looked when being stubborn.

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised.” Killian leaned against the wall, exhausted from jetlag and the argument that hadn’t even happened yet.

“I didn’t expect it to last.”

Killian’s jaw clenched. Just like Liam, to expect nothing but failure from his younger brother.

“It’s going quite well, thanks for asking,” Killian said through his teeth.

“Father wants to talk to you, but he doesn’t think you want to give him the time of day.” Liam somehow managed to look down at Killian, even though they were nearly the same height.

Killian’s head spun with the change of topic.

“He’s right,” he said after a moment.

“You know he wants you to come back. Home.”

Killian did know. He knew that deep down, his father felt like a failure. His son had left and made his own life, rather than stay under Brennan Jones’ watchful eye and constant criticism. Killian was  _ supposed _ to remain home and find a good English girl to marry. He was  _ supposed _ to work in the shipyard with Brennan and Liam and come home exhausted and miserable after six twelve-hour shifts a week. 

But he’d left, and Killian had no doubt that Brennan wanted him home so he could fulfill some dream he had about the Jones brothers running the shipyard together and making Brennan’s friends jealous of their success.

It hadn’t taken much for Killian to leave all of it behind. And there was nothing anyone could do to make him stay.

“That won’t happen,” Killian said simply.

“Because of her?” Liam demanded.

If only Emma would have found it funny, Killian would have told her later: she was right. His family really thought she was keeping him away, keeping him in Storybrooke in the good old US of A, as though he hadn’t gone without her for his first seven years.

Fine, let them think that.

“Does it matter why?”

“Of course it does, Killian. You should be  _ home _ with your  _ family _ who  _ love you _ .”

“I love her, Liam. I love Storybrooke and I love my dingy old apartment with the leaky kitchen sink. I love my job and I love  _ Emma _ , dammit.” Killian was surprised at how freeing it felt to say it aloud. His anger dissipated slowly as he reveled in the fact that he’d finally admitted his feelings, even if it wasn’t to Emma herself. “I love her, and I brought her here for the same reason you wanted me at your wedding: I want you to like her.”

Liam softened at that.

“I did want you to like Elsa. She’s… very special to me.” He uncrossed his arms as he spoke, taking a slow step towards Killian.

“As is Emma to me.”

Liam took a deep breath, and before Killian knew what was happening, they were hugging. He couldn’t remember the last time Liam had hugged him, especially with this much emotion. They held each other close, and Killian fought back a stray tear: he’d missed his brother, had missed the closeness they’d shared as children. 

“I missed you, Killian. I… I’m sorry I acted the way that I did over Milah. I know you can’t possibly believe me, but I thought I was looking out for your best interests.” Liam’s words were muffled against Killian’s shoulder.

“I missed you, too. You won’t believe  _ me _ , but you were the first person I wanted to tell after I met Emma.”

“You should have.”

“So should you.” Killian took a step back, raising an eyebrow at Liam. “You’d gone so far as to plan an entire wedding before I’d even met the bride. I haven’t even told Emma I love her yet.”

Liam looked a bit taken aback at Killian’s admission. 

“You haven’t?"

“I haven’t found the right time, I suppose. I’m… I’m worried I’ll scare her off.” It struck Killian how normal this conversation was. As though he and his brother spoke of their love lives regularly. Seven years, apparently, was nothing compared to two decades under the same roof, growing up together despite their differences. This Liam, the one before him, was the one who Killian had  _ wanted _ when he’d fallen for Milah. He’d wanted his older brother to look at him like this, like he was proud and pleased and all the things in between. 

Further proof that Milah hadn’t been ‘The One’ after all.

Deciding that they’d been away from the party long enough, Killian and Liam agreed to catch up further after the wedding. They walked back to the table and Elsa was beaming.

“You two look happier than I’ve seen you all day. Should I be insulted, since I’m the one marrying one of you tomorrow?” She teased.

“Not at all, lass. Liam’s just finally stopped being a total prat.” Killian laughed when his brother swatted at his arm. He looked towards Emma, hoping to see an equally pleased smile on her face. She had, after all, worried that she’d be further ruining his relationship with his brother when in the end, she’d inadvertently fixed it.

She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t even looking at him, but down at her phone, fingers speeding over the screen.

“Are you alright, Emma?” He slid into his chair beside her. She jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Fine,” she said, putting her phone on the table facedown.

Even Anna was uncharacteristically quiet and Killian found that, despite the serenity of the moment he’d had with his brother, he was feeling more curious and frustrated now that he was back with his girlfriend.

He’d expected the weekend to go much in the opposite direction.

Emma stayed quiet throughout dinner, occasionally excusing herself to use the restroom, always taking her phone. He watched her, barely touching the red velvet cake Liam bought for the table to share, and he worried.

Had bringing her to England been too much for her? He’d known it was a risk. It was early in their relationship, no matter how much time they spent together. Traveling to another country together, spending a weekend with his family… it must have been horrifying for her. He’d been selfish to want her here.

In the cab, he stared out the window, mentally scolding himself. There was less than a foot of space between himself and the woman he loved - he  _ loved _ her - but it may as well have been the Atlantic Ocean.

They entered their hotel room, and Killian’s hands felt cold without hers to hold. He longed to hug her or kiss her, but he felt as though he’d already lost her.

They spoke at the same time.

“We should talk-”

“Emma, I-”

They stared at each other, unsure which should continue. Killian felt an ache in his chest at her words, and wondered if anything he could say would salvage whatever he was losing.

_ We should talk _ , echoed in his head over and over again, the words hanging in the silence and the space between them.

“I heard you talking to your brother,” she finally said quietly.

Killian stayed silent. She may have heard him saying he loved her, or she may have only heard the end. He couldn’t assume she’d heard anything specific unless she said so. She stared at him, worry creasing her brow, until it became apparent that one of them had to say  _ something _ .

“I heard you say… Well, I heard  _ him _ say that he wanted you to come home.”

Shit. She’d heard the worst possible part. The very beginning, when his brother had tried to guilt him into returning to England. Her worst fear upon meeting his family, and she thought it was coming true.

“Emma, he didn’t-” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“I heard you say why you didn’t want to. I heard you say you loved me.” She stood just out of his reach, watching him. 

“Aye,” he said simply. 

“You haven’t… you haven’t said that to me.” She was speaking so quietly he could hardly hear her, so he took a chance and stepped closer to her. 

“I wasn’t sure how. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to tell someone…” He trailed off.

“That you love them.” She stood still, not moving away as he moved closer. He nodded and grabbed her hands in his before he could stop himself.

“I love you, Emma.” He watched her eyes, expecting fear or maybe some telltale flash that would mean she was about to run away and never look back.

“I love you, too.” Her eyes widened when she said it, as though she was coming to a realization. As though she hadn’t known how she felt until that moment.

“You do?” Killian was grinning now, the ache in his chest a dull memory. He kissed her, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. She laughed when he collapsed on top of her, and he moved to lay beside her for a moment, reveling in the sound of it.

“Yes, I do. I didn’t realize it, I don’t think. Not until the restaurant. Maybe not even until right now.” She was tracing his face as she spoke, fingers wandering aimlessly over his chin and cheeks.

“Well, I expected this conversation to go differently. I thought you were mad at me, or upset I’d brought you. I thought… I thought you were going to leave,” Killian confessed. She sat up and stared at him incredulously.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“What? Leave?” He adjusted his position, leaning back against the pillows.

“I wouldn’t.” She stared at him seriously.

“Okay, love. I believe you. I was just concerned. You were so quiet at dinner after I came back-” Her eyes lit up suddenly.

“Shit! I’ve got to call David.” She took her phone and ran out into the hall, the romance of the moment forgotten.

**

They changed their flight and stayed in England an extra two days. Liam covered the bill, just glad to have his brother back in his life. The wedding had been beautiful, Elsa every bit the blushing bride. Anna sped down the aisle, despite her coaching. Emma and Killian danced, and he told her he loved her at least six times before they fell into bed that evening.

Killian spent a full day with his brother, while Emma got a tour of the town from Elsa. The Jones brothers had a lot to catch up on, and Liam was pleased to hear that Killian had told Emma how he felt.

When they left, Liam hugged Emma, to Killian’s surprise, and whispered something to her. She nodded seriously, and refused to share what he’d said, no matter how much Killian needled her.

Later, they dragged their bags up the steps to Killian’s apartment. It was good to be home, much as the time in England had been worth the initial stress of it all. Killian looked forward to his own bed, his own shower, and silence.

So being met with balloons, streamers, and two people blowing into kazoos was quite a shock to his system. The Nolans had somehow gotten into his apartment and decorated it; a hand-painted banner hanging from the kitchen cabinets welcomed them home. Killian looked to Emma, expecting to see a look of shock that mirrored his own, but instead he found her grinning at him.

“Welcome home,” she whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

“You did this?” He was in awe of the woman beside him. A few short months ago, she hadn’t even wanted to let Killian into her brother’s apartment; now, she was plotting to throw him parties. It was… quite a change.

He realized they were staring at each other when David cleared his throat from across the room.

“Emma called me and said you were feeling a bit homesick. Mary Margaret loves any excuse to hang streamers. So, here we are.” David had his arms crossed, but he was smiling despite himself.

“That’s incredibly kind. Thank you. I’m quite surprised, which I assume was the goal.” As Killian spoke, the other people in the room all looked at each other, speaking without words. “What have I missed? You’re looking like there’s an inside joke going on somewhere.” 

“There’s more,” Emma said simply.

More?

“We got you something.” Mary Margaret’s entire face seemed to be taken up by her smile. She was generally a happy person but she looked downright ecstatic.

Killian looked between the three of them helplessly, until he heard a very strange noise coming from the direction of his bedroom. Emma grinned and ran toward the noise, returning with a ball of fluff.

“His name is Roger.” She handed Killian the furry bundle, and two large blue eyes looked up at him. “He was available for adoption before we left. I’d been eyeing him up, but then what you said to Anna… Killian, no one would be a better… is it dog dad? Than you. So I filled everything out online while we were away and had David pick him up this morning.”

Killian set Roger, a tan curly mess, onto the ground. They eyed each other curiously before Roger jumped right back up into Killian’s arms.

“You got me… a dog?”

“He’s some sort of poodle mix, they weren’t sure what kind.” Emma rambled. “He’s around two, they think. He did really well with other dogs, so you can probably take him with you when you walk everyone else’s dogs. He’s already house trained, thankfully, and they gave David a bunch of coupons for food.” Finally, she stopped. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Killian Jones was a lot of things, both in general and in that moment. And perhaps he was, just a bit... But not in the way Emma meant it. She looked at him as though he could possibly be anything but incredibly and unapologetically happy and downright blissful. “I could never be mad at you. I’m simply unsure what I ever did to deserve you.”

She smiled when she realized he meant it, and she stole Roger from his arms teasingly.

“You already turned one stray into a house pet so… I guess it’s time for another.”

_ A dog will teach you unconditional love. If you can have that in your life, things won't be too bad. _

_ ― Robert Wagner _


End file.
